


Spiraling Into The Abyss

by herprinceofdarkness



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: A character study of sorts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, One Shot, Takes place mid Season 4, from quite some time ago, repost, the character death marked is not explicitly written or described, this piece focuses on the aftermath and others reactions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herprinceofdarkness/pseuds/herprinceofdarkness
Summary: After Damon’s death, Elena is drowning in her despair until she shuts off her emotions. With her new attitude, she devises a plan to get Damon back. No matter the cost. But Elena’s switch is not as firmly in tact as she’d like, and it’s only a matter of time before she spirals into destruction.





	Spiraling Into The Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during mid season four and posted it to tumblr, back when rumors that the writers would kill off Damon first began to swirl around online. I had meant to put it up on ao3 and/or ff.net shortly after, but needless to say, never did. Just recently stumbled across this again, and though it's five years later, thought someone might want to read it;;
> 
> I do not own The Vampire Diaries or any of the associated characters. All mistakes are my own, however.

She flounced into the main parlor of the Salvatore boarding house with a lightness to her step that hadn’t been present in quite some time. This was good; she was energized for action. A slow smile curled at her lips. Of course it would be difficult, near impossible. But she could do it. She _would_ do it.

As she gracefully dropped her weight on to the couch in front of the fire place, she felt Stefan’s eyes on her from across the room. She huffed. Everybody had been looking at her like that lately. With caution. Like she would break. But there was no reason for that. This was a mere bump in the road. It was _fixable_.

Stefan let out a tired sigh and turned back to face the crackling logs. They continued on in heavy silence. Stifling, more like. Elena threw her head back to rest against the upholstered sofa, slowly lacing her newly painted fingers together against her abdomen. She took in a deceptively concentrated breath. In and out. She felt her stomach rise and fall beneath her palms reassuringly. It was time to put her plans into action. No more waiting around.

“So," she announced plainly into the open air of the room. "I’m going to bring him back.” 

“…what?” He didn't turn around; he barely moved. But Elena could see Stefan's shoulders tense and the fingers around his tumbler tighten until there was a minute crack toward the top of the glass rim. 

“I _said_ , I’m going to bring Damon back,” she enunciated slowly as if speaking to a child. “Really, Stefan. I knew you had your impulse control issues, but I didn’t know you were deaf too. You’re just broken all over, aren’t you?” With a patronizing cock of her head, she rose to her feet and made her way around the room to the drink cart, pouring herself a generous glass of bourbon. She threw it straight back, relishing the harsh burn at the back of her throat. She was getting good at that; Embracing the pain.

“Elena…,” Stefan had finally turned toward her. He took a slow step closer, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose.

“ _Stefan_ ,” she drawled, imitating his gruff tone.

“I know how much you miss him-“

“No, you don’t,” she snapped at him suddenly. She felt a sudden rush of anger, of despair, of _Damon,_ before she immediately shut it back down, pressing every singular feeling harshly back into a box in her mind. _No,_ she insisted upon herself. _I’m perfectly fine._ And her head felt clear again. Focused. 

“Okay,” Stefan relented, the word practically a sigh of exhaustion falling out of his mouth, appeasing her just as he had been doing ever since…before. Ever since…well,  _ever,_ actually. She snorted in amusement at that, folding her arms in front of her.

“I do understand your want to bring him back, though. I do, too,” Stefan said. _Need,_ she thought. _Not a want._ “But we just can’t. You can't, Elena. I'm so sorry. It goes against everything natural in the world. It would tip the very balance of nature.”

“I can’t?” Elena raised her eyebrows at him, her light tone hiding a hint of menace. Stepping forward until she was a hairsbreadth away from him. “You’re really in no position to tell me what I can and can’t do, Stefan. Or how _sorry_ you are," she sneered at him. "Especially considering this is _all your fault.”_

 

____________

_“This is your fault,” she hissed, her tear stained face tilting up to meet the devastated eyes of the younger Salvatore. He flinched. “If you hadn’t triggered Jeremy’s hunter curse, he wouldn’t have felt the urge to…”_

_Her words broke off as she was once again wracked with gutwrenching sobs. She lent over her boyfriend, placing her head on his cool chest and fisting his bloodied black shirt in her hands._

_“You can’t, you can’t leave me please, you promised,” she murmured in utter despair, so quietly that the vampire standing above her only heard broken whispers. “I love you, Damon. Please.”_

_“Elena,…”_

_“Get out,” she whipped her head up and snarled at him, her fangs bared and eyes veined. She couldn’t deal with Stefan right now. She couldn’t deal with Jeremy and Bonnie arguing wildly in her periphery vision. She couldn’t handle anything right now. All she could focus on was her anger. Her anguish. Her uncontrollable loss. Grief was consuming her. She was drowning in it and she couldn’t find her way out. There was no way out._

_Damon…was…dead…_

_And then something inside of her snapped. And all she felt was numb._

____________

“Elena!” she flinched as Stefan’s voice pulled her back from her dark memories into reality. “What’s going on with you? …Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Stefan,” she squared her shoulders and plastered an impish grin on her face. “I really just thought you’d be more enthusiastic about getting your brother back. My bad,” she threw her words over her shoulder as she turned her back on him, sashaying back to refill her drink.

“Elena, of _course_ I would love to have Damon back. It’s just not possible.”

“Oh, Stefan. Don’t you know that everything’s possible with a little bit of magic?” she twirled one hand out in a circular fashion - dramatically, mockingly.

“You mean dark magic!” he yelled in astonishment.

“You say po- _tay_ -to, I say po- _tah_ -to…” she sung with a tilt of her head.

“I can’t believe that you’d take that risk with everything we went through with Shane and Expression,” Stefan cried, gesturing widely in front of him. “This is _serious,_ Elena. Dark magic has cataclysmic consequences. Would you really do that?”

Yes, Stefan. I would,” she answered immediately, challenging him. How could he seriously be fighting her on this? It didn’t make sense to her. Didn’t he understand that getting Damon back was worth _everything_ to her? She would go through hell and back just to feel him one more time. The brush of his fingers stroking her cheek. The feel of his hard chest pressed up against the curve of her spine. The taste of his soft lips against hers. She would give anything in this world to have that one more time. 

Stefan pursed his lips together in frustration. “Bonnie will never agree to this, you know.”

“She doesn’t have to agree to it, she just as to _do_ it. Even if I have to force her,” she articulated threateningly with a lift of her brow.

“Elena-“

And before he knew it, she was clear across the room, gripping Stefan’s throat in her hand with his back pressed up against the parlor wall. He stared at her defiantly, his eyes blazing, but didn’t struggle as her fingers wrapped tightly into his flesh. She tilted her head curiously, slowly letting her eyes darken as she looked at her former paramour. She idly wondered how she had misunderstood Katherine so many times. This…violence wasn’t terrible or evil. It’s simply a means to an end.

“Stefan, I’ve been playing the good girl so far, but that’s over now. So here’s the deal; You’re going to help me sacrifice the twelve little humans I need to resurrect your brother, or you’re going to stand back while I rip their hearts out through their throat and _stay the hell out of my way_.”

She dropped him unceremoniously on the hardwood floor, stepping over him to take a drink from her tumbler of bourbon that she had left on the coffee table.

“Damon wouldn’t want this, Elena,” Stefan grunted as he picked himself up off the floor. “I know I was always the first to point out his impulsive behavior and questionable morals, and I know I was wrong for that. But one thing we always agreed on is that we didn’t want that for you. _Damon_ didn’t want that for you.”

Damon.

Elena swallowed roughly. She couldn’t think about him or about what Stefan was saying. If she thought about Damon, what he would think if he saw her… She was already catching some of her feelings leaking through the cracks. She had to …stop. Stop thinking, stop feeling, stop everything. She took a deep breath and refocused. She would be okay. She _was_ okay. There was no room for doubts now. 

“Well, Damon’s not here right now, so what he wants is a little irrelevant, isn’t it?” she turned back toward Stefan slowly, tilting her head in a predatory manner. “And until he gets back, we’re playing by _my_ rules.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Just for clarification: I know that this is left open ended, but I have always meant for this to be a one shot. It is just meant as a short, exploratory piece on Elena sans humanity and Damon).  
> Thank you to all for reading!! I truly appreciate it.


End file.
